Survivors
by thewiseferret
Summary: 500 years after the end of Season 4 and the war with the Hybrids is at a stalemate. This follows the exploits of jumper crew 8, AF Ariadne. Excessive WW1 poetry, references to Blake's 7, the Godfather, Firefly and Star Wars. May contain Wraith.
1. Chapter 1

_They_

The Bishop tells us 'When the boys come back

They will not be the same; for they'll have fought

In a just cause; they lead the last attack

On Anti Christ; their comrades' blood has bought

New right to breed an honourable race,

They have challenged Death and dared him face to face.'

'We're none of us the same' The boys reply.

'For George lost both his legs; and Bill's stone blind;

Poor Jim's shot through the lungs and like to die;

And Bert's gone syphilitic: you'll not find

A chap who's served that hasn't found _some_ change.'

The Bishop said 'The ways of God are strange.' _S. Sassoon_

Survivors.

The wind whistled outside the ship as it swooped low, knocking the leaves off the trees in its wake. They didn't have much time; the Hive was coming.

"Where the hell are our men?" The gunner growled in frustration, more at the screen then at the pilot.

He shrugged a shoulder and responded anyway. "I doubt that Meredith would appreciate being referred to as one of 'our men'."

"Do you have to bring that up _now_?!" The gunner snapped. "How much time do we have?"

"Intel from the other two gate-ships-"

"Puddle-jumpers." The gunner corrected, just to set the pilot's teeth on edge.

"Suggests we have roughly ten minutes before the Hive ship reaches-We have contact."

"About bloody time. Colin report!"

"We're under fire-" A man's voice crackled over the radios.

"What a surprise." The pilot observed dryly. "Do you have coordinates?"

"NO! We're getting _overrun-_" He was cut off sharply by static.

"What?!"

"The Hive has broken atmosphere on the other side of the planet, they are attempting to interfere with communications." The pilot informed him.

"Of _course_ they are-can you get the radio back?"

"Not while you are diverting power to keeping us cloaked, and before you suggest it if I attempt to establish a connection with Meredith or Don we may as well paint a _shezzghen_ yellow target on our ship."

"Well that's just _fantastic._"

There was a brief silence save for the wind and the white noise of the radios. The gunner glared at the pilot.

"Fine, what do you want to do?"

"I would suggest that we set off a flare and circle back to the clearing to pick them up."

"Which gives us all of _thirty seconds_ to out run a _dereztka_ swarm of blood-thirsty-"

"Do you have a better suggestion?" The pilot inquired.

"No." The gunner sighed, hands flying quickly over the controls to set a flare blazing like a small red comet at their tail. He turned the cloaking device off; the flare would render it useless anyway, and started patching power through to the shields instead. "Why is it that every time you have an idea it's suicidal?"

"Why is it that every time I fly with you I end up in a position where I am forced to make the choice between certain and only probable death?" The pilot shot back.

"Thank God we've got better shields then them." The gunner muttered as the clearing came into view.

They swept down; breaking to a halt far faster then any ship had a right to. The flare streaked past overhead. They stared quietly at the tree line for a moment.

"How long do you think-" The gunner began.

The pilot shook his head. "You should open the hatch."

"Um yeah right."

The hatch slid open. They waited, the gunner checked his watch about every ten seconds, the pilot stared impassively at the tree line. They both jumped as the radio stuttered back into life.

"_Shezzghen tsic gala-"_

"Meredith," The gunner replied. "Delightful as always to hear from you."

"_Dereztka, tsic, aretrza, MUXZLA, hezzacx-"_

"And to your ancestors as well." The pilot replied cheerfully. "The hatch is already open, the others are?"

"Colin's been hit. Don's got him. We can't contact the other 'jumpers." She spoke in short sharp bursts of information between the blasts of stunner fire.

"The Hive has managed to interfere with our communications-again." The pilot observed.

"There's nothing wrong with our radios!" The gunner snapped.

"Not if you don't mind having them cut off, or conveniently _stop working_ every time we come within-"

"You just want the Captain to-"

The Ship's inner politics were cut off as four people broke the tree line, two at a run, one at an impressive hobble, and the fourth…..There was a fourth.

"_Aretrza xcutze!_ ARE YOU INSANE?!" The gunner yelled. "LEAVE HIM!"

But it was too late, because they'd already cleared the trees and were half way across and if they stopped now for anything…..The stunner blasts whistled past, blue in the air and leaving a salty scent. They couldn't leave him, couldn't take the moment to pause and drop him, not without giving the approaching soldiers an easier target, or tripping over him. So the gunner swore, and the pilot closed his eyes, silently mouthing the count down until the wave of Darts arrived. Don skidded into the jumper, dropping the stunned man from his back and twisting to haul Colin in after him. Meredith took the time to fire a few parting shots at the horde, which was just breaking the tree line, before stepping neatly inside and pulling the hatch closed. They were off the ground before it had properly sealed.

There was a short moment of calm while the gunner goggled at the stunned man and the others took the time to catch their breath while the air was still mercifully free of Darts.

"I see you are all still alive-" The pilot began in a token attempt to break the tension and stop the gunner's rant before it began.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! Are you _dereztka Anqxuicta_ or are you TRYING to kill us all! Meredith this was _your_ idea wasn't it?!"

"He tried to help us." Meredith replied through gritted teeth.

"I _knew it!_ I thought, who would be _suicidal_ enough to risk _another_ bloody outbreak on Ship for _one_ useless half dead _imdezzca _and you know, for _some reason,_ can't think why-the name _Meredith Cadman_ just sprung to mind!"

"We found him running from the Crevazi," Don told him. "He was trying to fight them off with this."

The tall soldier produced an old fashioned bullet pistol from the inside of his battered jacket and passed it to the gunner. He took it and examined it thoughtfully.

"With bullets? He was trying to fight them off with bullets?! Has he been living in a _shezzghen_ cave for five hundred years?!"

The soldier shrugged. "Colin found him. He took a shot for him."

"You see!" Meredith countered. "If he was infected Colin's got it already, which means I've got it-"

"You don't _know _that-" The gunner began.

"The Hoffan virus became transferable from person to person some five hundred years ago. And we have Darts coming in, in…roughly ten seconds I believe. Meredith I suggest you hang on to your comatose friend."

The gunner took a moment to reflect that at least he had bothered to give them warning this time. Then his lungs froze up and his stomach spasmed as they shot through the air, accelerating faster then they could fall. The Darts streamed through the air behind them, streaking after them like the flare. Groaning and trying to force his last meal to remain in his guts where he'd left it the gunner crawled his way to his seat. He shut his eyes, trusting the pilot because he had to, just as the pilot had to trust him. He opened his eyes, letting his vision merge with the ships programming, taking aim-drones flashed through the air behind them. The Darts were returning fire, but the 'jumper twisted and swerved, the closest they came was a glancing blow which the shields deflected like rain.

"Jumper Seven," Colin panted into the radio. "We're under fire, ten, no nine, Darts. Two persons wounded, one possible infection. Request dialling the 'gate, _immediately_."

There was a cackle of static as they came into range of 'jumpers seven and nine, and a confirmation came through in pidgin. Followed by a reminder of quarantine procedure on Ship.

"Are you trying to loose those Darts or invite them back for hau-jexsan?" Don asked flatly.

"Patience is a virtue." The pilot reminded him, just as evenly. "Of course I could-"

"No. Whatever it is no. Not unless we're going to die otherwise, you understand?" The gunner interrupted. "If it involves the rest of us getting any sort of bodily fluid splattered around the inside of _my_ 'jumper-"

"_Your_ 'jumper?"

"Unnatural G-forces, or any sort of manoeuvre that's likely to make my blood pool in any extremities-"

The pilot sighed. "If we always stuck to-traditional-methods neither of us would be alive today."

"You can't use that as an excuse to play chicken with Crevazi!"

"Why not?" The pilot replied, and the gunner groaned because he was wearing _that grin_ the one that meant he was high on adrenaline, blood-lust, being two inches from death and sweet Mary alone knew what else. Those poor unfortunate Crevazi had no idea what they were dealing with.

"I would appreciate it if for once you would allow me to fly as I wish and instead spend your considerable energies on _shooting down those Darts_?" The pilot suggested.

"You're going to do that dive thing when you see how close we can get to the ground without exploding again aren't you?"

"Possibly."

"_Shezzghen."_ The gunner observed.

"Naturally."

The ship dropped from the sky. The Darts screamed overhead as the 'jumper span in a tight circle and streaked back in the opposite direction, drones flying out behind them. The pilot beamed, of course _he_ was happy, the shockwaves from the exploding Darts were practically knocking them off course.

"How many?" The pilot asked sharply.

"Five, two of them are beginning to turn round."

"Excellent."

"You really are a blood-thirsty lot." The gunner commented.

"You fire the drones."

The jumper swerved wildly to the left, making Meredith swear in a particularly inventive fashion and the gunner accuse the pilot of trying to murder them all.

"Do you have _any_ idea how fast you're going?!"

"Of course."

"You _can't_ get us through the 'gate like this!"

"You say that _every_ time."

"You're going to get _us all KILLED!_"

"Your conversation is remarkably repetitive." The pilot observed. "How fast can you re-dial the 'gate after we are through?"

"How fast can you turn round?" The gunner snapped.

"Excellent."

The pilot frowned intently at the Stargate, already dialled up; the other 'jumpers must have swung around and beat them through it, probably at a far more sensible speed. But then they wouldn't have had five Darts firing at them as they approached. Still, though he would never have admitted it to the gunner the pilot did think that the 'gate was approaching at a rather alarming speed. He gritted his teeth. It would be difficult, with half a degree and a handful of millimetres making the difference between getting home safely and an admittedly quick if rather showy death. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

The 'jumper zoomed through the event horizon with a precision surgeons dream of. The worm-hole collapsed behind it.

oOo

They slowed and steered round at a far more reasonable pace. The pilot let go of the controls for the first time that day and turned to smirk at the gunner and the crew in general.

"You will notice that we are once again, not all dead."

"No thanks to you."

"Oh and I suppose you could have found another way to-"

"I think he's coming round." Meredith interrupted. She had learnt from long experience that if they weren't interrupted the crew would spend entirely too much time arguing on this way-station of an empty world.

The gunner frowned. "Why was he using a rifle?"

"Perhaps," Don suggested. "It was all he had."

They were silent for a time staring at their, for the most part unwanted, passenger. He stirred groggily, the stilted jerks of someone coming round too fast from an argument with a stunner. He opened his eyes.

"Are you well anixcus?" Don enquired.

The man's eyes widened and he screamed. "HYBRIDS!!!"

The crew froze. Meredith reached for her knife.

"What did you call him?" She asked in a tone that tried to be conversational and came out as the proverbial lion addressing the lamb.

He screamed again and tried to scramble back towards the hatch. He tripped over his own lax limbs.

"_What_ did you call him?!" Meredith repeated, knife edging out of its sheath.

"Put it away." Don sighed.

"But he just called you a _hezzacx CREVAZI!_"

The soldier snorted. "Ignorance isn't a sin, and there are few of us-that he would have come into contact with. I am surprised he has the experience necessary to recognise his own species in this part of the galaxy."

He turned to their passenger with a pitying look. "We are not Kenmore's vermin, nor are we allied to him. Quite the opposite in fact."

"You're-"

Don held up his right hand and smiled. "Do you truly not know?"

The man's eyes darted from Don's face, his pale skin and short hair to his oversized clothing, a mismatch of old Lantean gear, Athosian and…something else. He squinted for a moment at the soldier's palm, then understanding dawned, his eyes widened.

"Wraith?!" It came out as an incredulous whisper.

The pilot sighed. "Correct. Now you will sit still and be quiet imdezzca because you have already caused a considerable amount of trouble, my ship-mate here that you have so offended saved your miserable life, and you are delaying our departure. If you continue to make life complicated for us I shall break the atmosphere and throw you out of the airlock." He glanced to the gunner for confirmation.

"Seconded." He replied without hesitation. "Dial her up and lets get out of here."

The Stargate sparked into life.

oOo


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The evacuee took up residence in a corner of the 'jumper by the hatch and huddled there with his arms around his knees glaring at everyone. The woman had been steadily returning his glare for the past twenty minutes of hyper-drive travel, apparently without blinking. She was beginning to remind him of the hybrids more then the two other….creatures….wraith. Her face-oh it was definitely human when you took the time to study it properly. But you had to look past the long black dread-locks that were just short of her waist, the eerie smile that didn't touch her eyes, showed teeth filed to points and something dark that spread in a bold abstract pattern round her left eye. She wore a dark leather coat, battered and patched that reached below her knees, with a stunner that looked too large for her propped casually against her thigh.

The pilot sighed. "It was your idea to save him." He reminded her, speaking aloud for politeness' sake.

Meredith let out a frustrated hiss. "Can't I change my mind?"

The evacuee glanced at the others, his eyes skimmed quickly over the man on the floor; human, wounded leg, possibly a partial hit from a stunner. He looked Athosian but dressed like a strange mix between Traveller and Genii with his hair tied back into a pony tail at the nape of his neck and his beard cut to little more then a whisp beneath his lip. Then there was the…wraith. It, for the evacuee couldn't bring himself to give Don a gender, had yellow eyes, green-tinged skin and short white hair that stuck out from its skull as if it was static. The other one, the pilot, who had only deigned to look at him once, had paler skin and longer coarser hair, like a mane.

His gaze focused on the gunner as a voice of reason. The evacuee felt he could relate to this man, if only by process of elimination; he was human, physically similar even if his eyes were an odd shape, his dark hair was a sensible length and he had the sense to be wearing a troubled expression. True he was wearing a dark leather coat similar to the woman's, but compared to the others……

"Sir-" He began.

"Don't look at me; I was all for leaving you behind." The gunner told him casually before turning to the pilot. "We're in range."

"I'd noticed."

"So why haven't you radioed ahead?"

The pilot's head tilted an unnatural degree to his right. "I am not entirely sure, perhaps it is something to do with the very conscious and entirely troublesome stray that we appear to have somehow acquired."

The gunner, who had spent enough time around Wraith to be well used to their particular brand of sarcasm, rolled his eyes. "What's he going to do? Turn into Kenmore?"

"He has not been properly searched-"

"We don't have the time or equipment-"

"And he should not have survived." The Wraith continued in his irritatingly calm tone. "You saw how many of Kenmore's vermin were there, one human with a rifle could not have survived for long enough to get so far from the Stargate."

"I was lucky-" The evacuee started to explain.

"He recovered far too fast,"

"I've come round quicker then that!" The gunner protested.

"Yes but _you_ have fought with Crevazi long enough to have built up a tolerance to stunner fire, and I would expect that if our guest was similarly experienced he would know enough not to try attacking them with bullets. Unless he was dropped on his head after birth. Repeatedly."

"You want to stun him." The gunner guessed.

"I would gladly give Meredith the honour."

"Do you trust anyone who isn't Hive?"

"Yes, the Keeper of the Traveller ship in quadrant 16-beta-C is an extremely capable man."

"He's just one imdezzca," The gunner said dismissively. "What's the harm?"

"You don't remember the last time the Genii-"

"Oh yeah-that."

There was an awkward silence while the crew, with the notable exception of Meredith and her unnaturally wide grin, tried to look as if they were not mulling over the pros and cons of stunning the man they'd just rescued.

"We should-" Don began.

"Yes." The pilot agreed.

The 'jumper slowed significantly. The woman's head bowed slightly. After a short while she hissed, the pilot blinked and the 'jumper accelerated again.

"Well?"

"We're to go in and dock in the quarantine area as normal." The pilot said before thoughtfully adding. "The Keeper sees no reason why he can not remain conscious as we are going into quarantine for three days anyway, but the matter is apparently at our discretion."

"Which means?"

"If we want to kill him after an hour in quarantine they would prefer if we stunned him instead."

The evacuee considered protesting, but a glance at Meredith and the chance to absorb the way she was stroking her stunner stopped him. The 'jumper glided silently through space took a final hyper-drive leap and- The ship appeared, colossal as an asteroid, striped grey and blue, Ancient and Wraith. It looked rather like a cross between an Asgard cruiser, and an inventively conjoined Hive ship rammed into the mould of an Aurora class. It was exceptionally ugly.

"That looks-" The evacuee began.

"How she looks is not important." Don informed him. "She works."

"Most of the time." The pilot observed. "Gate-ship eight, pilot requesting permission to dock at quarantine bay one. Captain?"

A woman's voice came over the radio. "Granted. Bring her in Avon."

The gunner shifted to his own radio. "'Jumper eight, gunner, requesting permission to dock at quarantine bay one, Queen?"

The second voice was deeper, with a low hissing undertone. "Yes."

The puddle-jumper glided into dock.

oOo

"Uh, _finally._" The gunner made it out of the jumper before any of his ship-mates, despite being the furthest from the hatch. He yawned, stretching until his back clicked and took up residence on a sofa.

The pilot sighed. Don hoisted his wounded ship-mate on to a shoulder and helped him out. Meredith followed them, taking the time to hiss at the evacuee as she passed. He stayed curled in his corner of the jumper as the Wraith soldier deposited Colin on a chair and rolled up his trouser leg.

"Partial stunner hit and a twisted ankle."

"Great-" He trailed off. "We didn't get in for long enough-"

"What were you doing?" The evacuee interrupted.

"Correcting the mistakes of our ancestors." Avon informed him.

"You could just answer him-"

"I don't believe in encouraging idiots." He turned, head tilting to one side so those unblinking yellow eyes drilled into the unfortunate evacuee. "Why were you using a rifle? It is an ineffective and heavy weapon, why not simply drop it and run?"

"They were going to kill me!"

"They were going to kill you whether you wasted bullets on them or not. Would it not have-extended your life somewhat- if you had not aggravated them?"

"I didn't-"

"Of course you didn't, hybrids call back their Hive ships from half a solar system away on a whim."

"I didn't-"

"What's your name?" Colin interrupted catching the man off guard.

"What-"

"Your name." Avon repeated in a tone reserved for the terminally stupid. "I assume you have one human?"

"Where are you from?" Don asked before the man had a chance to answer. "You're not Athosian-"

"And you don't look like a Traveller-" Colin continued.

"Or Balkan-" Don added.

"You're not Genii are you? If you are you," Colin stopped and frowned. "What'd you reckon his odds are Tom?"

"Oh I don't know," The gunner replied. "Four to one, three and a half may be. What do you think Meredith?"

"Two to one."

"That low huh?"

"He was only childer." She replied evenly.

"But it was at least a year ago-"

"What are they-" The evacuee started.

"Odds of you getting thrown out of an air lock." Colin told him casually.

"I'm not a Genii!" The man protested.

"Which only leaves forty other persisting human tribes who wish to see us dead." Avon observed.

Their interrogation was interrupted as the communications system stuttered into life. The gunner staggered upright with a barely repressed groan, and joined the pilot in front of the screen. With considerable effort he straightened, standing to attention with his hands clasped behind his back, a mirror of the Wraith at his side. For a moment they stared at their Captain and their Queen, then the woman sighed.

"The Queen tells me your mission was a complete failure." She stated blandly.

"That depends on your definition of failure Ma'am." The gunner replied. "We haven't lost anything, save a few drones, and we brought down four,"

"Five." The pilot corrected.

"Five darts." Tom confirmed. "Granted the security round their lab will be tighter now but-"

"Captain, the situation that led to this was completely beyond our control-"

"-with Stanley's pheromone spray I'm sure we could find a way to-"

"-once the hybrids discovered their presence there was no sensible course of action but to retreat without the data-"

"-and it should take out their security systems in around ten minutes, at least that's what Colin keeps telling me-"

"-whether he's carrying the virus or not one less human in their labs is one less Crevazi for us to kill-"

"-there can't be more then five hundred-a thousand tops-"

"-you always say we should not leave men behind Captain-"

"Are you two quite finished?"

They fell silent for a moment. The gunner glanced behind him at their entirely unhappy 'damsel' in distress; the pilot stared at the corner of the room.

"Our communications do not function to anywhere near an adequate-"

"Will you _shut up_ about the bloody radios!"

The pilot ignored him. "My Queen I fail to see how we can be expected to coordinate the infiltration of an entirely Crevazi planet when they routinely jam our frequencies _and_ search for signs of us communicating through our mind. Surely Atlantis could spare-"

"Avon!" The Captain snapped. "Now is not the time to-"

"Dwell on technological flaws." The Queen supplied.

There was another short awkward silence, then Meredith sighed and approached the screen.

"It was my fault," She addressed the Queen with her head bowed. "I saw him fighting the Crevazi and made the decision to assist him."

The debriefing only went down hill from there.

oOo


End file.
